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A 


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^17 


C/u 


^ 
% 


CIHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHIVI/ICMH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  Microreproductions  /  Institut  Canadian  de  microreproductions  historiques 


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raproduction,  or  which  may  significantly  changa 
tha  usual  mathod  of  filming,  ara  chackad  balow. 


n 


n 


n 


n 


Coiourad  covars/ 
Couvartura  da  coulaur 


r~n    Covars  damaged/ 


Couvartura  andommagia 


Covars  rastorad  and/or  laminatad/ 
Couvartura  rastauria  at/ou  pellicula 


r~n    Covar  titia  missing/ 


La  titra  da  couvartura  manqua 

Coiourad  maps/ 

Cartas  gtegraphiques  Bn  couiaur 

Coiourad  ink  (i.a.  othar  than  blue  or  black)/ 
Encra  da  coulaur  (i.a.  autra  qua  blaua  ou  noira) 


r~1    Coiourad  platas  and/or  illustrations/ 


Planchas  at/ou  illustrations  9n  coulaur 


Bound  with  other  material/ 
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Additional  comments:/ 
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L'Institut  a  microfilm*  la  mailleur  exemplaire 
qu'il  lui  a  it*  possible  de  se  procurer.  Las  details 
de  cet  exemplaire  qui  sont  peut-*tre  uniques  du 
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une  image  reproduite,  ou  qui  peuvent  exigar  une 
modification  dans  la  mithoda  normale  de  filmage 
sont  indiqute  ci-dessous. 


|~~|   Coloured  pages/ 


Pages  de  couleur 

Pages  damaged/ 
Pages  endommagias 


n    Pages  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
Pages  restaurias  et/ou  pelliculdes 

0    Pages  discoloured,  stained  or  foxed/ 
Pages  d*color*es,  tacheties  ou  piqudes 

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Showthrough/ 
Transparence 

Quality  of  prin 

Qu8lit*  inigala  de  I'impression 

Includes  supplementary  matarii 
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Only  edition  available/ 
Seule  Edition  disponible 


rjl  Showthrough/ 

I      I  Quality  of  print  varies/ 

nn  Includes  supplementary  material/ 

r~n  Only  edition  available/ 


□    Pages  wholly  or  partially  obscured  by  errata 
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This  item  is  filmed  at  the  reduction  ratio  checked  below/ 

Ce  document  est  film*  au  taux  de  reduction  indiqu*  ci-dessous. 

10X  14X  18X  22X 


y 


12X 


16X 


20X 


25X 


30X 


24X 


28X 


n 

32X 


The  copy  filmed  here  has  been  reproduced  thanks 
to  the  generosity  of: 

Seminary  of  Quebec 
Library 


L'exemplaire  fllmA  f ut  reprodult  grflce  d  la 
g6nArositA  de: 

S^minaire  de  Quebec 
Bibliothdque 


The  images  appearing  here  are  the  best  quality 
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Original  copies  in  printed  paper  covers  are  filmed 
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or  illustrated  impression. 


The  last  recorded  frame  on  each  microfiche 
shall  contain  the  symbol  -^(meaning  "CON- 
TINUED"), or  the  symbol  y  (meaning  "END"), 
whichever  applies. 


Lee  images  suivantes  ont  dtA  reproduites  avec  le 
plus  grand  soin,  compte  tenu  de  la  condition  at 
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dernlAre  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
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plat,  salon  le  cas.  Tous  les  wt'tres  exemplaires 
originaux  sont  filmte  en  r        ^lengant  par  la 
premiere  page  qui  com^         une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illusti^iion  et  en  terminant  par 
la  dernlAre  page  qui  comporte  ur*  telle 
empreinte. 

Un  des  symboles  suivants  apparattra  sur  la 
dernlAre  image  de  cheque  microfiche,  selon  le 
cas:  le  symbols  —^  signifie  "A  SUIVRE",  le 
symbols  y  signifie  "FIN". 


Maps,  plates,  charts,  etc.,  may  be  filmed  at 
different  reduction  ratios.  Those  too  large  to  be 
entirely  included  in  one  exposure  are  filmed 
beginning  in  the  upper  left  hand  corner,  left  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  as  many  frames  as 
required.  The  following  diagrams  illustrate  the 
method: 


Les  cartes,  planches,  tableaux,  etc.,  peuvent  Atre 
filmte  A  des  taux  de  reduction  diffirents. 
Lorsque  le  document  est  trop  grand  pour  dtre 
reprodult  en  un  seul  cliche,  11  est  fiimi  A  partir 
de  Tangle  suptrieur  gauche,  de  gauche  A  droite, 
et  de  haut  en  bas,  en  prenant  le  nombre 
d'images  nicessaire.  Les  diagrammes  suivants 
illustrent  la  mithode. 


1 

2 

3 

1 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

4< 


FRIAR  JEROME'S  BEAUTIFUL  BOOK, 
BY  THOMAS  BAILEY  ALDRICH.  WITH 
DECORATIONS   BY  W.  S.   HADAWAY. 


Copyright,  1865,  and  1873,  by  Ticknor  and  Fields, 
and  James  R.  Osgood  and  Company.  Copyright, 
iBgo,  and  1893,  by  Thomas  Bailey  Aldrich.  Copy- 
right, 1896,  by  Houghton,  Mifflin  and  Company. 
All  rights  reserved. 


V 


'I 


i' 


i 


i  I 


FRIAR  JEROME'S  BEAUTIFUL  BOOK. 


1 

*  n 

0 


0 


11 


l!i 


[ 


s 


(J ! 


I 


[ 


And  Friar  Jerome  was  full  of  grief 


That  April  evening,  as  he  lay 


On  the  straw  pallet  in  his  cell. 


He  scarcely  heard  the  curfew-bell 


Calling  the  brotherhood  to  prayer ; 


But  he  arose,  for  't  was  his  care 


Nightly  to  feed  the  hungry  poor 


That  crowded  to  the  Convent  door. 


n 


IS  choicest  duty  it  had  been : 


But  this  one  night  it  weighed  him 


"  What  work  for  an  immortal  soul,  [down. 


To  feed  and  clothe  some  lazy  clown  I 


Is  there  no  action  worth  my  mood. 


No  deed  of  daring,  high  and  pure, 


That  shall,  when  I  am  dead,  endure, 


A  well-spring  of  perpetual  good?" 


B^ 


ND  straight  he  thought  of  those 


great  tomes 


[boast- 


With    clamps   of   gold — the    Convent's 


How  they  endured,  while  kings  and  realms 


R5 


^ifflWITOR^l 


c 


q 


I 


\Qmmj  mmrmQ] 


Past  into  darkness  and  were  lost ; 


How  they  had  stood  from  age  to  age, 


Clad  in  their  yellow  vellum-mail, 


'Gainst  which  the  Paynim's  godless  rage, 


The  Vandal's  fire,  could  naught  avail : 


Though  heathen  sword-blows  fell  like  hail, 


Though  cities  ran  with  Christian  blood, 


Imperishable  they  had  stood  I 


They  did  not  seem  like  books  to  him. 


But  Heroes,  Martyrs,  Saints — themselves 


The  things  they  told  of,  not  mere  books 


Ranged  grimly  on  the  oaken  shelves. 


U 


O  those  dim  alcoves,  far  withdrawn, 
He  turned  with  measured  steps  and 


Trimming  his  lantern  as  he  went ;    [slow, 
And  there,  among  the  shadows,  bent 


Above  one  ponderous  folio. 


With  whose  miraculous  text  were  blent 


Seraphic  faces :  Angels,  crowned 


With  rings  of  melting  amethyst; 


^ 


Mute,  patient  Martyrs,  cruelly  bound 


J  ;V— 


il      ! 


\v 


WMMMmrmh 


To  blazing  fagots ;  here  and  there, 


Some  bold,  serene  Evangelist, 


Or  Mary  in  her  sunny  hair; 


And  here  and  there  from  out  the  words 


A  brilliant  tropic  bird  took  flight; 


And  through  the  margins  many  a  vine 


Went  wandering — roses,  red  and  white. 
Tulip,  wind-flower,  and  columbine  ~ 


Blossomed.    To  his  believing  nind 


These  things  were  real,  and  the  wind,  I 


Blown  through  the  muUioned  window,  took 


Scent  from  the  lilies  in  the  book^ 


: 


■& 


ANTAMaria!"criedFriar  Jerome, 
"Whatever  man  illumined  this, 


Though  he  were  steeped  heart-deep  in  sin, 


Was  worthy  of  unending  bliss, 
I  And  no  doubt  hath  it!  Ah  I  dear  Lord, 
Might  I  so  beautify  Thy  Word! 


Whai  sacristan,  the  convents  through, 


Transcribes  with  such  precision?  who 


Does  such  initials  as  I  do? 


liMfillMli^ 


I,'. 


m 


[ 


^ 


Lo!  I  will  gird  me  to  this  work, 


And  save  me,  ere  the  one  chance  slips 


On  smooth,  clean  parchment  I  '11  engross 


The  Prophet's  fell  Apocalypse; 


And  as  I  write  from  day  to  day, 


Perchance  my  sins  will  pass  away." 


O  Friar  Jerome  began  his  Book. 


From  break  of  dawn  till  curfew-chime 


He  bent  above  the  lengthening  page. 


Like  some  rapt  poet  o'er  his  rhyme. 


He  scarcely  paused  to  tell  his  beads, 


Except  at  night ;  and  then  he  lay 


And  tost,  unrestful,  on  the  straw, 


Impatient  for  the  coming  day 


Working  like  one  who  feels,  perchance. 


That,  ere  the  longed-for  goal  be  won, 


Ere  Beauty  bare  her  perfect  breast, 


Black  Death  may  pluck  him  from  the  sun. 


At  intervals  the  busy  brook. 


Turning  the  mill-wheel,  caught  his  ear; 


And  through  the  grating  of  the  cell 


mmrmmrm 

He  saw  the  honeysuckles  peer 

And  knew  'twas  summer,  that  the  sheep 


In  fragrant  pastures  lay  asleep. 


And  felt  that,  somehow,  God  was  near. 
In  his  green  pulpit  on  the  elm. 


The  robin,  abbot  of  that  wood. 


Held  forth  by  times ;  and  Friar  Jerome 
Listened,  and  smiled,  and  understood. 


m 


HILE  summer 
What  joy : 


=1 

jhe  blissful] 
or  so,  [land  I 


To  see  the  long-tressed  Angels  grow 
Beneath  the  cunning  of  his  hand. 


Vignette  and  tail-piece  subtly  wrought! 
And  little  recked  he  of  the  poor 


That  missed  him  at  the  Convent  door; 


Or,  thinking  of  them,  put  the  thought 
Aside.    "I  feed  the  souls  of  men 


Henceforth,  and  not  their  bodies! " yet 

Their  sharp,  pinched  features,  now  and  then, 
Stole  in  between  him  and  his  Book, 


And  filled  him  with  a  vagfue  regret 

Jgd?M!f01?KBgftgj 


Hiii 


i    ! 


[ 


n 


dh 


,0 W  on  that  region  fell  a  blight ; 
.The  com  grew  cankered  in  its  sheath ; 


And  from  the  verdurous  uplands  rolled 


A  sultry  vapor  fraught  with  death — 


— 


A  poisonous  mist,  that,  like  a  pall, 


Hung  black  and  stagnant  over  all. 


Then  came  the  sickness — the  malign, 


Green-spotted  terror  called  the  Pest, 


That  took  the  light  from  loving  eyes, 


And  made  the  young  bride's  gentle  breast 


A  fatal  pillow.    Ah  I  the  woe, 


The  crime,  the  madness  that  befell  I 


In  one  short  night  that  vale  became 


More  foul  than  Dante's  inmost  hell. 


Men  curst  their  wives;  and  mothers  left 


Theif  nursing  babes  alone  to  die. 


And  wantoned,  singing,  through  thestreets, 


With  shameless  brow  and  frenzied  eye;      | 


And  senseless  clowns,  not  fearing  God 


Such  power  the  spotted  fever  had 


Razed  Cragwood  Castle  on  the  hill, 


Pillaged  the  vdne-bins,  and  went  mad. 


[ 


And  evermore  that  dreadful  pall 
Of  mist  hung  stagfnant  over  all : 


By  day,  a  sickly  light  broke  through 


The  heated  fog,  on  town  and  field ; 


By  night,  the  moon,  in  anger,  turned 


Against  the  earth  its  mottled  shield. 


tx- 


HEN  from  the  Convent,  twoandtwo, 


V--\jThe  Prior  chanting  at  their  head, 


The  monks  went  forth  to  shrive  the  sick, 


Only  Jerome,  he  went  not  forth. 
But  hiding  in  his  dusty  nook. 


And  give  the  hungry  grave  its  dead— 


"Let  come  what  will,  I  must  illume 


The  last  ten  pages  of  my  Book  I" 


He  drew  his  stool  before  the  desk, 


And  sat  him  down,  distraught  and  wan. 


To  paint  his  daring  masterpiece. 


The  stately  figure  of  Saint  John. 


He  sketched  the  head  with  pious  care, 


Laid  in  the  tint,  when,  powers  of  Grace  1 


He  found  a  grinning  Death's-head  there, 


[Ml 


JMiitifomflnKg 


i^ 


I 

1 1 


i; 


XN 


MQmrMQ] 


And  not  the  grand  Apostle's  face  I 


CC 


HEN  up  he  rose  with  one  long  cry 


^<A3  '"Tis  Satan's  self  does  this,"  cried 
"  Because  I  shut  and  barred  my  heart    The. 


When  Thou  didst  loudest  call  to  me  I 


O  Lord,  Thou  know'st  the  thoughts  of  men, 


Thou  know'st  that  I  did  yearn  to  make 


Thy  Word  more  lovely  to  the  eyes 


Of  sinful  souls,  for  Christ  his  sake  I 


Nathless,  I  leave  the  task  undone: 


I  give  up  all  to  follow  Thee 


Even  like  him  who  gave  his  nets 


To  winds  and  waves  by  Galilee  I" 


HICH  said,  he  closed  the  precious 
Book 


In  silence,  with  a  reverent  hand ; 


And  drawing  his  cowl  about  his  face 


Went  forth  into  the  Stricken  Land. 


And  there  was  joy  m  heaven  that  day 


More  joy  o'er  this  forlorn  old  friar 


wm 


mmmum 


\mi 


'1 


[MsfnarMomrggQl 


Than  over  fifty  sinless  men 


Who  never  struggled  with  desire  I 


HI 


H  ATdeedshedid  in  that  dark  town, 
What  hearts  he  soothed  with  an- 


guish torn, 


What  weary  ways  of  woe  he  trod, 
Are  written  in  the  Book  of  God, 


And  shall  be  read  at  Judgment  Mom. 


The  weeks  crept  on,  when,  one  still  day, 


God's  awful  presence  filled  the  sky, 
And  that  black  vapor  floated  by, 


And  lo  1  the  sickness  past  away. 


With  silvery  clang,  by  thorpe  and  town, 
The  be?l3  made  merry  in  their  spires : 


O  Godl  to  think  the  Pest  is  flown  I 


Men  kissed  each  other  on  the  street, 


And  music  piped  to  dancing  feet 


The  livelong  night,  by  roaring  fires  1 


HEN  Friar  Jerome,  a  wasted  shape— 


^For  he  had  taken  the  Plague  at  last 

^^Mlf01IKflDB@l 


[ 


Rose  up,  and  through  the  happy  town, 


And  through  the  wintry  woodlands,  past 


Into  the  Convent.    What  a  gloom 


Sat  brooding  in  each  desolate  room  I 


What  silence  in  the  corridor  I 


^ 


For  of  that  long,  innumerous  train 


Which  issued  forth  a  month  before 


Scarce  twenty  had  come  back  again! 


cc 


PUNTING  his  rosaiy  step  by  step, 
With  a  forlorn  and  vacant  air. 


Like  some  unshriven  churchyard  thing. 


The  Friar  crawled  up  the  mouldy  stair 


To  his  damp  cell,  that  he  might  look 


Once  more  on  his  beloved  Book. 


M 


ND  there  it  lay  upon  the 
Open! — he  had  not  left 


He  grasped  it,  vyith  a  cry;  for,  lol 


tand^      I 

—  \M 

so.       I 


He  saw  that  some  angelic  hand, 


While  he  was  gone,  had  finished  it  I 


There  'twas  complete,  as  he  had  planned* 


IMl 


iM] 


'■  f 


1 1 


M^M 


There,  at  the  end,  stood  FINIS,  writ 


And  g^dcd  as  no  man  could  do — 


Not  even  that  pious  anchoret, 


Bilfrid,  the  wonderful,  nor  yet 


The  miniatore  Ethelwold, 


Nor  Durham's  Bishop,  who  of  old 


(England   still   hoards   the   pnceless 


leaves) 


Did  the  Four  Gospels  all  in  gold. 


And  Friar  Jerome  nor  spoke  nor  stirred, 


But,  with  his  eyes  fixed  on  that  word. 


He  passed  from  sin  and  want  and  scorn; 


And  suddenly  the  chapel-bells 


Rang  in  the  holy  Christmas-Mom  I 


1^  THOSE  WILD  WARS  WHICH 
RACKED  THE  LAND  ||  SINCE 
THEN.  AND  KINGDOMS  RENT  IN 
TWAIN,  II  THE  FRIAR'S  BEAUTIFUL 
BOOK  WAS  LOST—  UTHAT  MIRACLE 
OF  HAND  AND  BRAIN:  IIyET,  THOUGH 
ITS  LEAVES  WERE  TORN  AND  TOST, 
II  THE  VOLUME  WAS  NOT  WRIT  IN 
VAIN! 


PUBLISHED  BY  HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN 
AND  COMPANY,  BOSTON  AND  NEW 
YORK,  THE  RIVERSIDE  PRESS.  CAM- 
BRIDGE. 1896. 


